


The Beauty of Suffering

by CaptainShade



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Again, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Biting, Blood, Body Worship, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Gen, He gets more pain, He's not actually dead, Hurt No Comfort, I don't think he's human, I'm pretty sure the stalker isn't human, It's in a creepy way, It's not in a sex way, Mentions of Azzano, Original Stalker Character, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Spoilers he doesn't get a hug, Stalking, The Avengers (ambiguously), This is kind of creepy, Whump, Why Did I Write This?, ambiguous timeline, cursing, despite reports to the contrary, in a stalkery way, probably, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-07-17 05:27:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16088996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainShade/pseuds/CaptainShade
Summary: He was so beautiful.I was the only person who could see it like I did. The only one who could properly worship his beauty. The glisten of his tears, the face of his agony, the curves and lines of my muscles straining to get away and break everything holding him back.I could never let him go. Just so beautiful.





	The Beauty of Suffering

He was so beautiful.   
I was the only person who could see it like I did. The only one who could properly worship his beauty. The glisten of his tears, the face of his agony, the curves and lines of his muscles straining to get away and break everything holding him back.   
I could never let him go. Just so beautiful.   
The few times I allowed him to try escaping, I couldn’t do anything but watch the grace in his steps, the fluidity of his motions, and the skill as he took down so many of my fighters. I didn’t care about them in the least. They could never appreciate him like I could.   
Even as he broke, he was beautiful.   
The dark, raggedly chopped hair that fell into his face and stuck to his neck and forehead when he was sweating and suffering. The oceanic eyes that never revealed much--or, at least, didn’t reveal much until he was finally broken. The way his mouth would stretch around a noiseless scream of agony while his back bowed and his one flesh arm pulled against the metal keeping him in place. The strong jaw that was kept so tightly clenched against the noises at first, until I finally taught him that I prefer my victims loud. Then he kind of...gave up being silent and made all those delicious screams and pleads, until his voice gave out, at least. Then the air was just filled with the weaker noises of whines and keens and sobs.   
Fuck, it was beautiful.   
The long, pale neck that shone with sweat after long enough with the pain. God, I could talk for hours about the perfect taste of his exhaustion sweats. He was so much weaker now, weaker than when I first acquired him, when I could make such beautiful patterns in his flesh out of silver and blood. I could carve out a piece of his liver and he wouldn’t make any noise, just tremble and clench his jaw hard enough to break teeth. Near the end, all it took to get a whine out of him was to lick up the sweat on the big vein in his neck. I didn’t even need to have a tool nearby--a tool, not a weapon, for I don’t hurt people, I just break them down. I’m an engineer, not a monster.   
But back to my musings.   
I had the privilege of watching those broad shoulders and chest whittle down to the pale skin and bones that he probably had back in the Depression Era. I got to count all of his ribs, from the outside and the inside. At the beginning, when his right shoulder still had muscle and meat, I could bite into it like an apple, feel the skin and muscle snap around my teeth, taste and see the hot dark blood pouring from it like ink from a pen. He was my muse, in a way.   
His suffering was my inspiration, and I couldn’t get enough of it.   
I still hadn’t gotten enough when Captain Fucking America broke in to where I was staying. He had a team and everything, fought through all of my impenetrable defenses.   
He was shocked to see his friend on the table. I could tell he saw the old Sergeant strapped to the table in Azzano, regardless of how much different James looked now.   
It didn’t matter to him though, and the others ran in to stop him from killing me. He wanted to, very badly, but everybody stopped him.   
Right before I was knocked out, I looked James in the eye and smirked as I saw him take his last breath in my presence.

**Author's Note:**

> I know--its awful. Not what you expected after reading my other work on here, but we all find out new things about people. Comment, kudos, don't comment or kudos, I just wanted to get this out there. My tumblr is felix-the-white-wolf. Come scream about marvel and doctor who and supernatural with me.


End file.
